


The King of the Indies

by orphan_account



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Mutual Pining, Tooth Rotting Fluff, but its at a beach, cottagecore gays, idiots at a beach, ish, nevermind oh had to bump up that rating, no beta we die like L'manberg after the button, nobody look at me, slowburn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:22:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27914491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Everything felt like haze, like smoke had risen from inside of him and clouded his mind. He pressed a kiss on his forehead just to see if it was real and felt rewarded for the crimes he’d committed. The body on top of him shifted, a hand pressed against his heart, a warmth blooming inside his chest.He didn’t want to leave. He didn’t want to breathe. It was as if the sun itself had come down to put him out of his misery. Who needed light when George was here lying next to him, living and breathing the same air? His own personal Apollo, a god to his name.____________Snippets from a summer vacation that didn't go as planned.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & Darryl Noveschosch, Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound & Darryl Noveschosch & Sapnap, Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Darryl Noveschosch & Sapnap, GeorgeNotFound & Darryl Noveschosch, GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 69
Kudos: 239





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please don't talk to me about this fic on my main art account. I've posted about it on there, and I've replied to a few comments asking for more art with the link, but please respect my privacy and go to the twitter account I've designated for this fic. It's @PerleDesOrient

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah this one's based off of Le monarque des Indes by Pierre Lapointe.

_**ce grand voyage étourdissant** _

_**propulsé dans le firmament** _

_**J’ai peur d’avoir mal en tombant** _

* * *

Even this far into cottage, Dream could still hear the gentle sloshing of waves on the shore, the slight patter of sea spray against rocks, and the distant squawking of seagulls overhead. The refrigerator below his palms thrummed with energy, the light within it enough to illuminate the dark kitchen he hadn’t bothered to turn the lights on in. 

He knew George was coming soon. He’d called him enough times to know that he was arriving a bit earlier than the others, and Dream had stocked up on enough food for all of them to last at least a week. He was prepared. Well, he _should_ be, but there was something different about sending coy feet pics to your friend over text messages and... actually meeting him in real life. It was a sort of sinking feeling that you could never really get rid of no matter how many times you’ve been through it before. 

Dream shoved the last few bits of food in the fridge and closed the door shut. His phone should be buzzing right about now. It was five minutes since George last called, and based on what he said last time, he was pretty nearby. 

Dream slipped his phone off of the table and into his pocket. The lilacs should be in the living room. He told George he’d get him a “fuck you” bouquet as a joke, but after a while he decided maybe just a couple of lilacs would be better for a first meeting. 

He slipped past the archway into the living room. It was a wide area with a couple of couches surrounding a coffee table. On one side was a fireplace with a TV mounted on the wall, and a stereo to the side. He already checked if they worked, so he didn’t bother doing that again. 

Dream grabbed the lilacs from one of the couches and headed out. 

The breeze washed against his face. It smelled of sea salt and fresh air. There was a hint of newly baked bread and freshly picked lilacs. Dream raised the bouquet to his face and breathed in the scent. 

His phone buzzed. George was calling, probably. 

Dream dropped his arm to the side and shuffled around his pocket for a bit before he finally got the damned buzzing thing. 

He slipped down the porch and into the small garden overlooking the sea. Dream shoved the phone between his ear and shoulder. 

George's voice went through. There was the sound of waves and a car driving off. “Hey, Dream.” 

“Where are you?” 

“I’m at, uh….” Dream didn’t bother to hear the answer. He moved past the garden to the iron wrought gate at the back of the cottage. Vines crawled up the steel, and hyacinths bloomed at the edges. He nudged it open with his foot. 

George was standing under a tree opposite to the cottage, head turning to find any discernable landmarks. He looked more solid in that moment than in any of the times they’ve talked online. Skin like porcelain, lips soft to the touch. Tangible... _real_. All his reservations about meeting him died in his throat. 

Dream smiled and raised the lilacs to cover his face. “I see you.” 

“Wait, really? Are you—” there was a pause for a moment, then a deep inhale. The crackle of gravel being stepped on. _“Oh_.”   
  
He waited for more. 

“Dream, are you the creep at the gate?” 

“Wh—” Dream blinked and furrowed his brows. “You know what? You don’t deserve to see my face. You don’t deserve these flowers either.” 

“But I like your stupid face.” 

“You haven’t even seen it yet.” 

There was the sound of feet passing gravel to step on grass. George’s next reply was closer. Dream could feel him tugging the lilacs away from his grip, how his smooth fingertips brushed against the veins of his hands. 

“I’m sure I’ll like it when I see it.” 

Dream blinked and looked down. George was in front of him now, a smile on his face. “Hey, you green bastard.” He laughed. It was almost annoying how infectious it was. “So guess the man bun fanart was correct.” 

Dream chuckled. He slowly took his phone away from his ear and closed the call. He shoved it back into his pocket. 

“Here.” He rasped. 

George blinked, eyes unclouding. “Hm?” 

“For you.” 

George’s gaze slid down to the lilacs in his hand. They were fresh, and some of the petals still had dew drops from the morning rain. 

“I….” George pocketed his own phone and reached out to take the bouquet from him. He was careful, grabbing at just the right spot to make sure their fingers wouldn’t touch. Dream wasn’t sure why that disappointed him so much. 

“Thank you. That’s so thoughtful.” He muttered. “Are these lilacs?” 

“Yes. I was supposed to get you the ‘fuck you' bouquet Sapnap suggested, but I decided to be nice, just this once.” 

George rolled his eyes and shoved Dream's shoulder. “Wow.” He snarked. “You just completely ruined these for me. I’m so thankful.” 

“You should be.” he snickered. “You’re the only one I got these for.” 

Dream watched as a George's eyebrows drew together. 

“Anyway,” George coughed. He shifted on his foot uncomfortably and pulled at the straps on his backpack. “Can you show me in?” 

“Sure.” Dream grinned. “Want me to bring your bag for you?” 

George's gaze shifted to his arms for a second before quickly slipping away. “No, I’m fine.” 

Dream nodded slowly then ushered him in. George moved past him into the garden while he squatted down and busied himself with locking the gate. 

He could hear George start sifting through the items in his pocket. “Is anyone else here yet?” 

“No. You’re early, remember? It’s just the two of us for now.” 

George groaned. “Can’t believe I have to deal with your annoying ass for a day.” 

Dream smirked. He latched the lock back into place and closed it with a satisfying click. “You love it.” 

“Hardly.” 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> two gays sit on a windowsill and talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't talk to me about this fic on my main art account. I've posted about it on there, and I've replied to a few comments asking for more art with the link, but please respect my privacy and go to the twitter account I've designated for this fic. It's @PerleDesOrient

_**Tu tisses des étoffes de joie** _

__**avec tes rires, avec ta voix** _ _

* * *

Dream gathered the comforters into his hands and settled them on his arms. The wind howled against the windows, and some of the water was starting to leak in through the cracks in the frame. It started raining seven hours after George arrived. They hadn’t even had the chance to think of swimming together when the sky darkened and thunder boomed overhead. One minute in they were giggling; something along the lines of “Wow George, I didn’t think you’d be so wet on our first meeting.” and a “shut up, Dream.” In reply. Three minutes in they were scrambling up the shore when lightning hit the water. Five minutes in, they were trying to get back without getting any more wet. It didn’t work, unfortunately, so instead they just ran back to the cliff and hoped they wouldn’t slip on the rocks. 

The lights flickered briefly before turning back on. 

Dream nudged the door to his room open and headed out, pushing it close with a soft kick. George should be done bathing by now. Dream already went in first earlier, and the two of them were planning to wait out the storm in the living room with a bowl of chips and a few cans of soda. Cocoa was suggested at some point, but both of them were too tired to even think of making some. 

By the time Dream finally descended to the first floor, George was sitting by one of the windows. His hand was pressed against the glass, hair tousled and gaze far off. He looked pretty then, all soft sides and soft skin. It was easy to forget he was older than him. Sometimes, it was hard to forget. 

George shut his eyes and laid his head against the window with a soft thud. His towel still hung around his neck and water dripped from his damp hair. 

Earlier, Dream and him had made it their work to close all of the windows. There was no heater in the house, and the cold here had a way of getting into your bones, of seeping in and settling in there until you gave in to its embrace. George had apparently given in, choosing to savour it. They hadn’t even eaten dinner yet. 

Dream walked over to him and nudged his leg softly with a foot. He didn’t want to disturb him too harshly in case he wanted to go back to sleep 

George blinked up at him blearily, eyes still squinted. “Hm…?” 

The ride here must have been exhausting. 

Dream settled opposite of him on the windowsill and propped his legs up. George shifted to make room for him, their toes inches away from bumping into each other. 

“It’s cold.” George muttered, eyes closed and hands shoved into his armpits for warmth. 

Dream laughed. “I could warm you up if you like.” 

George opened his eyes slightly just to send a glare his way. He laughed even more. 

The brunette sighed heavily. He was really tired, it seemed. Even more than usual.

George craned his head to the side to stretch his neck. Dream forced himself to close his eyes just to _not_ look at how open and exposed it was. 

He felt his mouth go dry. He pointedly looked away and cleared his throat. 

The rain wasn’t going to let up any time soon, and he could hardly hear the waves anymore. Just the heavy patter of rain and soft, even breathing. 

Dream gulped. “I looked up the weather. Seems there’s a tropical storm coming in.” 

“I thought we went here because it 'didn’t rain as much'.” 

Dream chuckled. “apparently not.” 

Dream felt a slight nudge on his hand. He looked down to find that one of George’s hands was now laying close to his. 

“It’s cold.”, George repeated. Dream nodded, softly pressing his fingers against his friend’s until they finally opened up. He intertwined their fingers together. George _was_ cold. 

Dream rubbed his thumb against the palm of his hand. “I have a comforter if you want.” He muttered softly. 

“We can’t just sleep on a windowsill _._ ” George grumbled, burying his head in his knees. His fingers flexed against his. 

“We can try.” He joked. 

There was another sigh, longer and heavier than the last one. “We said we’d stay and watch Netflix.” 

“Netflix and Chill?” 

George slapped his hand. His voice pitched higher. _“No.”_

Dream chuckled. “We can do that tomorrow. Right now it looks like you need sleep more than anything.” 

He was quiet for a bit, head still pressed against his knees. Dream continued to rub the pad of his thumb on George’s hand. 

For a while there was silence. Then finally, “…Okay.” 

Dream nodded slowly, barely stopping the triumph in his smile. “Do you want me to cook us food before you sleep?” 

“No, I’m—” George yawned and let go of his hand. Eyes watering and bleary. “Mmm. No. I’m fine.” 

Dream nodded again, and this time finally untangled himself from the mess of legs they’d become. He put the comforter down on the windowsill and used one of them to put on George while he dozed off. Dream still needed to check somethings before he could go off and help his friend settle into his room. 

Dream padded to the kitchen barefoot. The lights were still on, but every few minutes they would flicker on and off. The cold from outside had somehow seeped in and now even the floor felt like it would freeze him inside out. 

He reached up to one of the cupboards and took a glass of water then put it under the tap. His phone buzzed. 

Dream pulled out his phone from his pocket and looked through the messages. Five text messages from Sapnap, and one from the gremlin in the other room. 

He opened Sapnap's messages first. 

They were fairly normal, just a few questions about how the trio was going plus giving updates on how long it would take for them to arrive. The second recent message was a picture that George had clearly sent him of Dream bent over trying to lock the gate with the caption “this u?”. The most recent message was something along the lines of “We’ll be late, storm cancelled the flight. Have to reschedule. Have fun with your date.” to which Dream responded with “We’ll make sure to keep the bed warm for you. ;*”. 

The water overflowed on to his hand. 

Dream blinked and pocketed his phone. He turned off the tap and downed the water in one go. He set it aside on a rack to clean later. 

By the time he got back to George, the guy was already dead asleep against the window. One of his legs was stretched out where dream had been, and his face was scrunched up in discomfort. Probably from the cold. 

He stood in front of him for a moment, not exactly sure of what to do. He shifted on his legs, then decided that George probably didn’t want to be woken up again, and he didn’t want to have to deal with the tantrum that led to. 

So logically, the only solution would be to carry him, right? 

Dream slipped his hands under George, making sure he didn’t touch him in any place that might be weird. The bastard had used the second comforter as a teddy bear at some point, and now all of the cloth was a bunched together mess. 

Still, he carried him and positioned him so that his head fell on to his chest. He was so close like this, lips parted and eyelashes flush against his cheeks. He was scared to even breathe should a stray exhalation blow out the moment. 

Dream held his breath and brought George back to his room. They’d gotten too busy messing around that they didn’t have time to prep his room, and Dream was the only one who was there before so he was already done fixing his. He was the one who still had energy among the two of them. He’d just let George sleep here and then they’d switch in the morning. 

His arms flexed slightly before he finally laid George down on the mattress. The comforter was strewn haphazardly on him, and his hair was a mess. It was annoying how pretty he still looked like this. Did the guy put Vaseline on his lips or something? 

Dream sighed and sat down beside him. He needed to collect some of his things before he went to the other room. 

He reached over George to the nightstand next to the bed. His charger was there, and he ne—then the world grew dark. 

Dream blinked, unsure if it was just him or if something had happened. There was still light pooling in from the windows, and he could still hear George breathe below him. 

Power outage, then. He shifted slightly to go and get some candles when something wrapped around his wrist. 

He felt a jolt run through his body. 

“Dream…?” 

He blinked and held a hand to his chest. He exhaled in relief. Right. George. Not a ghost. 

He turned around to look at his friend. “Yeah?” he asked in hushed tones. 

“Where are you going?” 

“Your room. I’m letting you sleep here for now, then we can switch in the morning.” 

There was silence for a moment. Dream couldn’t make out his face all that well in the darkness, but he knew his eyes were closed. 

“You can stay here, you know.” 

Dream blinked. He didn’t think that was what he’d say. He licked his lips and gulped. “Are you sure?” 

The next reply was sleepy, a yawn cutting out the start. “’s fine. It’s just a bed, ‘nyways. Besides, it’s cold. Need a heat pack.” 

“Did you just call me _hot?”_

"'s not what I said." George groaned. Dream chuckled. “Alright, alright. Fine.” 

The fingers around his wrist loosened. “Just... don’t try anything weird okay?” 

“George, there’s nobody around and the power’s dead, I’m not getting any views from this.” 

The brunette shifted. Despite the rain and thunder, he could still hear the rustling of cloth. “Had to be sure. You’re a bit weird sometimes.” 

“You wound me.” 

“I could do worse.” 

Dream snorted. He leaned down and took his shoes off his feet. If he stayed here it would be better for him; he didn’t have to do anything for tonight. 

He laid his back against the mattress and pulled the comforter over his stomach. He could hear George on the other side of the bed, already sound asleep despite it only being seconds since their conversation. 

Dream opened his phone one last time for the night. The light washed over his face, and he had to squint a bit against the contrast from the darkness. He lowered the brightness of the screen then proceeded to look for the message George had sent him when he arrived. 

It was a picture of George with the lilacs held up to his chin. He was smiling, his annoying pearly white teeth on full display. He’d captioned it with the words “New wallpaper? (lol). Thanks for the flowers.” 

Dream smiled softly saved the picture to his phone. Then his screen went dark. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alllllllll of these chapters are short.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two gays in bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't talk to me about this fic on my main art account. I've posted about it on there, and I've replied to a few comments asking for more art with the link, but please respect my privacy and go to the twitter account I've designated for this fic. It's @PerleDesOrient

_**Tu tisses des étoffes de joie** _

__**avec tes rires, avec ta voix** _ _

* * *

There was still no sun come morning. The rain from before had died down, reaching its climax by 3 in the morning and mellowing out to a soft patter at sunrise. Dream couldn’t feel the cold. The sheets would shift under him, and the soft cotton of the comforter still pressed down from above. 

He turned his head to the side, breathing in the mild scent of strawberries. There was movement, the press of skin on skin, and the shifting of a body lying next to him. George was laying on his chest now, head buried into his neck. Lips open and close enough to touch. 

Everything felt like haze, like smoke had risen from inside of him and clouded his mind. He pressed a kiss on his forehead just to see if it was real and felt rewarded for the crimes he’d committed. The body on top of him shifted, a hand pressed against his heart, a warmth blooming inside his chest. 

He didn’t want to leave. He didn’t want to _breathe._ It was as if the sun itself had come down to put him out of his misery. Who needed light when George was here lying next to him, living and breathing the same air? His own personal Apollo, a god to his name. 

But moments are fleeting, and life was nothing but the passage from one to another. An endless dance of steps and repetitions, one never a duplicate of the other. 

Dream carefully tugged his arm out from under George. He wasn’t heavy, and it was easier to take out than he thought it would be. George was still sleeping, as if the world had no right to intrude on his peace. Like the god Hypnos—or a cat, if Dream was being more honest with himself. 

He moved the comforter and tucked George in for warmth. If he ran his hand through the brunette’s hair and tucked a stray strand behind his ear, that was only for Dream to know. 

* * *

The floor creaked underneath his feet. 

He’d abandoned his socks halfway down the stairs when he realized how wet the floor was. He shoved his phone back into his pocket. 

The ice-y bite of the cold was a good way to wake himself up at least. 

Dream groaned and leaned against the door. 

**_What_ ** **_the fuck_ ** **_, Dream._ **

He pressed his palms to his eyes, felt the urge to scream rising from the pit of his gut. 

**_Why would you DO that?_ **

His words died in his throat. The room was still dark, but the rain lightening up meant he could at least see more now. 

**_It was because you were sleepy—delirious, even._ **

He pushed himself off the door and felt regret that he now had nothing to lean on. His knees felt weak. The dawning realization of what he’d done was enough to send him spiraling. 

It wasn’t his fault that he was excited to see George. Maybe a bit too much, if he was honest with himself. They’d been friends for a while, and if the thought of seeing him made Dream happy the there wasn’t anything wrong with it, right? It’s not like he’d spent nights staring at him through the monitor, smiling at every quip and ever roll of the eye. The two of them were just really good friends; so much so that meeting in real life just felt like a second stage in their _friendship_. It just felt natural. 

**_Rig_ ** **_ht_ ** **_?_ **

Dream forcefully shoved his thoughts to the back of his mind to rot. If the roiling in his gut was telling him anything, he was hungry—and if he ate to avoid the thoughts encroaching on his mind, then sue him. 

He staggered towards the kitchen, occasionally stepping on a puddle from the night before. He remembered putting candles somewhere inside one of the cabinets when he first came here, so he’d have to look for that if he wanted to not accidentally shove his foot somewhere unwanted. He dug into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He unlocked it. George’s face stared back at him, a smile on his lips, lilacs pressed close to his chin. 

The morning light drifted on him from between the leaves, bathing him in the early morning glow. He felt like if he’d stared any longer, he’d get blinded. Dream swiped to the left and hastily pressed on the flashlight button. 

Light washed over the soggy wood of the cottage. He lifted it up and watched as it illuminated the kitchen he’d just been in yesterday. The lilacs were on the dinner table, preserved by the water inside the vase. 

Dream moved past it and headed directly for once of the cabinets. He pulled out a few candles, a few saucers, and a box of matches. He made quick work of everything before his phone would inevitably shut down from lack of energy. He hadn’t been able to charge it last night, but luckily enough he wasn’t dumb and decided to pack a power bank for the trip. 

He set up the candles where they’d give off the most light, then headed back up the stairs to get his power bank from his room. He held a candle in his hand, the light swaying softly in the gloom. His feet were still wet once he reached the carpeted hallway of the rooms. The second floor was saved from most of the flooding, but some spots were still wet from the spots where rain leaked. 

Dream went back into his room only to find George still fast asleep in his bed. At some point he’d rolled over to Dream’s side of the bed, comforter skewered to the side and face buried in Dream’s pillow. 

He couldn’t help but smile at the sight. 

Dream padded over to the backpack and dropped down. He placed the light on the dressed then shuffled through his back as quietly as he could to try and not wake up George. It was a bit hard to see in the dark, and his phone was close to dead so he wouldn’t bother turning on the flashlight again. 

The sheets shifted beside him, a hand reaching out to cup his cheek. 

Dream blinked and placed his hand over it, keeping it close to him. He turned his head to the side. George’s eyes were still closed, just on the brink of wakefulness. 

“Dream..?” he murmured, voice soft and unsure. If Dream could’ve bottled up the sound and gotten drunk on it every night, he would’ve. 

He didn’t respond. 

“Dream, is that you?” George tried again. 

Dream snapped out of it, nodding softly. He took George’s hand off his cheek and held it in both of his hands to keep it warm. “Yeah, it’s me. Are you up?” 

George’s brows scrunched together; eyes pressed shut. “Not yet, still tired.” There was a brief pause. The rain continued to patter on the windowsill outside. Dream breathed in. Then, he spoke again. “Why’d you leave?” 

That caught him off guard. “I thought you wouldn’t want to wake up to... uh, that.” 

“It’s cold, Dream.” he grumbled. “Get over yourself.” 

It wasn’t. Dream knew that for a fact. It was warm under those comforters. 

He worried at his lower lip. 

“Do you want me to come back?” 

“Yeah.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find the Six of Crows Reference Challenge.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> two gays in bed part two but it finally ends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING  
> I'm putting this in advance because it's not NSFW but also I want people to be able to skip over it. If you see the border line, run. Go to the next border line.
> 
> Please don't talk to me about this fic on my main art account. I've posted about it on there, and I've replied to a few comments asking for more art with the link, but please respect my privacy and go to the twitter account I've designated for this fic. It's @PerleDesOrient

_**Je ne sais où on s’en va.** _

_**Je me répète qu’il ne faut pas** _

* * *

“Oh.” Dream muttered. When he didn’t respond any further, George opened an eye, expression disgruntled. “Dream.” He whined. 

“Geooooorge.” He whined back, trying to hide the blush creeping up his cheeks. At least this time he could blame it on the atmosphere, call it a trick of the light. “Not until the second date at least.” 

George blinked once, then twice. It was clear he wasn’t thinking straight yet. His mind seemed to churn for a moment before finally realizing what he’d said, what he’d implied in his moment of stupor. 

He was definitely awake now. 

“DREAM!!!” He hissed, pushing said idiot by the shoulder. Dream cackled as he fell to the floor, hand on his face. It quickly devolved into wheezing once he saw that George had promptly turned away from him. 

He had the comforter tightly wrapped around him, both of his hands covering his face from embarrassment. “Never mind.” He hissed. George’s words were muffled by the comforter he held to his face. “Don’t go anywhere near me. I hate you.” 

“Come on, George. I thought you loved me.” Dream wheezed. 

George groaned. “No, I don’t.” 

Dream wheezed even harder. It took him a moment, but once he’d finally calmed himself down, he rose to his feet and sat down on the free side of the bed. 

“George.” Dream tried. No response. He was _sulking._ He wasn’t sure why he found that so cute. 

Dream shifted his position so that one leg was on the bed and the other wasn’t. He leaned down. “Geooooorge. Come on, don’t go silent on me.” 

Silence, and then— “No.” 

* * *

Dream bit on his lip to stop himself from laughing. Oh, George would hate him for this. 

He raised a hand and lightly placed it on George’s hip. “ _Dre_ _a_ -!“

“Are you sure, George?” 

He inhaled sharply. His hands were still on his face in profuse and stubborn refusal. 

Dream chuckled and bent down. He could hear George start to breathe slowly in the way only people regulating themselves to would. 

Unfortunately for George, he hadn’t thought of covering up the rest of himself. 

Dream hovered his face over him. From here he could catch the smell again. The mild scent of strawberries wafting into the air. It was enough to cloud his mind. He never wanted to forget it. 

He ran the tip of his nose up from the base of George’s neck to his jaw, grazed the barest hint of a kiss under the lobe of his ear. George shivered underneath him. His face was red. 

“You can’t just leave me after all of that.” He whispered softly. Dream lowered his hand from his hip to his thigh. George’s eyes were open now, his hands finally slipping away from his face. He still refused to look, but Dream could see a tongue dart out to wet his lips. 

Dream exhaled slowly. He pressed his nose up against the shell of his ear. 

“Don’t you want me to touch you, George?” He murmured. Then, he pressed a soft kiss to it. 

George screamed. 

Dream watched as he scrambled off the bed in a tangle of sheets and embarrassment. His legs were askew, and when he fell with a dull thud, both were still on the bed.   
  
“ _DREAM!!!_ ” George shouted with all the vitriol in the world. 

All he needed to do was curse his name, and Dream was bewitched. 

He couldn’t help himself. He laughed. 

Dream held his arms to his stomach and doubled over in laughter. His head was buried in the sheets, shoulders shaking. 

“Come on-” 

“NO!” 

Dream wiped the tears from his eyes and with weakened arms, crawled over to the edge of the bed. George was still covering his face and his eyes peeked through his fingers like gemstones in the dark. 

"This is exactly what I said when I told you not to do anything weird!" He whined. 

“Come on George, just say you love me.” he cooed. 

George grabbed the pillow he discarded and threw it at his face. Dream spluttered and fell backwards. 

“Hey!” 

“ **_Fuck off!_ **” 

Dream watched as George grabbed his bag and scampered off downstairs, trying his best to conspicuously cover the front of his pants. 

The sound of footsteps receded. He was probably going to take a bath. 

Dream waited until a few seconds after George was gone to look up at the ceiling. He smiled softly to himself and sunk into the sheets. It still smelled of him, it still had his warmth. 

He raised his hand up and watched as the candle light casted shadows on the edges. Dream had touched George and it felt like fire under his skin. How much worse if he could get closer? Feel his skin on his, listen as he exhaled under his touch? 

Dream laughed and dropped his hand on to his face. 

Right. 

He was still supposed to charge his phone. 

* * *

Dream came back into the house to the start of eggs frying on the stove. After the whole bathroom debacle, the rain had finally stopped. There still wasn’t any connection, and the power was still out. Still, it was better than nothing so he’d gone and fixed anything that might’ve been broken from last night starting from the inside out. George had taken so long in the bathroom he’d given up on waiting for him before starting his work. 

He slipped out of his shoes and left them on the rack. The floor was dry now after he went at it earlier, but it still felt cold underneath his feet. George was in the kitchen, apron on and hands busy with cooking. 

Dream walked towards him and dropped the bucket of materials by the Samsung smart fridge. He was going to lean over and check what it was that George had cooked when what came was a very sudden “No.” 

George turned around; spatula raised at him threateningly. “Don’t go anywhere near me. You’re banned. Blocked. Reported.” 

Dream looked at him incredulously, a laugh on the precipice of his lips. “Gogy, I just want to eat.” 

“Well until I’m sure what you want to eat is food and not _me,_ then you’re not allowed anywhere near.” 

Dream spluttered, a blush rising to his cheeks. “George!” 

“Ah, complaining now that you’re the receiving end, huh?” 

George took a fork and stabbed it into a piece of bacon he’d cooked. He offered it to dream. “Here, now eat one and shove it. Go take a bath too, you stink.” 

“I do _not_.” 

“Do so. Now go off I’m not letting you eat with me until you get that grime off of you.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is still PG(?). I joked on priv saying i'd draw something for this if it reaches 100 kudos and that's actually likely now so I am very scared.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Breakfast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't talk to me about this fic on my main art account. I've posted about it on there, and I've replied to a few comments asking for more art with the link, but please respect my privacy and go to the twitter account I've designated for this fic. It's @PerleDesOrient

_**tenter de comprendre où mènent** _

_**les histoires qui valent la peine** _

* * *

When Dream entered the bathroom, it still smelled of him. 

George was the last one to bathe here. His toiletries were arranged on one of the counters, and his towel was hanging on a rack to dry. A quick glance at his things made it clear that he _did_ moisturize, and maybe even more. Dream couldn’t recognize half the things on there, and some of them he’d only heard in passing during their conversations. 

He shifted his gaze to the mirror and thanked whoever made this cottage that the bathroom window was so big. Light streamed in from the top, making the use of candles obsolete. Now he could at least shower knowing a ghost wouldn’t jump his ass. 

Dream lifted the hem of his shirt. He’d have to be relatively quick if he wanted to finish before the food went cold. 

* * *

He slipped out of the bathroom already clothed. George was probably done eating by now, so he didn’t have to worry about continuing a conversation after what he’d done. The expression on his face had been an entire meal on its own. Seeing him so flustered up close, knowing that _he’d_ been the one to cause the flush on his skin. It wasn’t an image that would be leaving him any time soon. 

Dream smiled softly to himself and walked to the kitchen... only to find George still waiting, plate untouched and head pressed against the edge of the table. 

He had his phone beside him, earphones plugged in. Dream wondered what he was listening to. 

Still, it made him feel... _something,_ to see George waiting for him. He didn’t have to, especially after that debacle. He flexed his hands, unsure on whether to approach him or not —which was honestly kind of stupid. He needed to eat at _some_ point. 

George raised his head, squinting at him. His lips parted to say something but then closed. All he did was stare, squirming in his seat. 

They didn’t say anything to each other and instead just stared. The adrenaline (excitement?) of the moment earlier had passed, and now they were unsure whether to address it or not. With the way George was looking at him, he seemed to be inclined to the former. 

Dream thought otherwise. 

He placed his hand on his waist, leaning on the doorway as casually as he could. 

“So,” He started. George glared at him, knowing exactly what he just did. Still, he relented and pulled the earphones out. 

George smiled at him and leaned back in his chair, gesturing to the seat opposite of him in invitation. His eyebrows were pinched together. Dream wanted to come closer and smooth it out with his thumb. “Finally done bathing. Come on, before the food gets cold.” 

Dream snapped out of his thoughts. Right. Breakfast. 

He walked towards the table and sat down. George had made them a full English breakfast, eggs and beans and all. The lilacs were still on the table, though George had probably nudged it to the left earlier so they could talk to each other easier. 

Dream took his fork, and George took that as an invitation to start eating. 

They were both fairly quiet. As much as they wanted to talk, neither of them had eaten since yesterday, and hunger was more important than the careful dance they’d started since George arrived. Only about halfway through eating did one of them finally decide to speak. It was George, eggs poised to enter his mouth. “Did you receive anything before the storm?” 

Dream choked, suddenly hyperaware of the wallpaper on his phone. He attempted a desperate grab at a glass of water only for him to grasp at air. George handed him the glass. He swallowed it all in one go. 

Dream wiped away the excess water from him lips. “Uuuh…” 

George's brows were pinched again, though this time for an entirely different reason. All of his attention was focused on Dream. He bit his lip in worry. 

_Jesus Chri_ _st_.

Was George even _aware_ of half the things he was doing to him? If he didn’t stop, Dream was going to go crazy. It was already hard enough seeing it through the screen (who knows how many nights he'd spent staring at a ceiling wishing he was beside him) but being so close that if he just reached out, he could place his lips over George's and kiss him senseless until all his nerves were on fire and his muscles ached from want... **_Wait—_ **

“From Sapnap, yeah.” Dream coughed out. His cheeks were starting to flush from the embarrassment. “Said their flight was delayed. I’m not sure how long it’ll take.” 

George nodded slowly, back relaxing against the wooden chair. “Connection’s still gone, electricity too...” He muttered. “When do you think it’s going to come back?” 

Dream fiddled with his fork. The small sound it made when he tapped it against his plate reverberated inside his skull. It was so quiet now without the rain. He could hear the slosh of waves on the short and seagulls flying overhead. None of it was loud enough to drown out his reservations or the way his heart hammered against his chest. He needed music. 

“I don’t know.” he shrugged. “Hopefully we can get it back by later. We have enough food to last us a week, but it’s pretty boring having nothing to do.” 

George poked at the food on his plate. “Yeah.”   


Dream stared in silence as he continued to eat. It would be bad if they were both stuck in here all day, he didn’t know what he’d do with himself. He stabbed a piece of bacon with his fork. “Okay, what about if we go to the beach.” 

“Hm?” 

“We could go to the shore again, see if anything interesting washed up. Maybe take a short swim if you want, that’s what we came for here in the first place anyway, right?” 

George seemed to mull over it for a second before a smile finally spread on his face. It was enough of a confirmation for Dream. 

“Yeah, we should go there.” 

Dream grinned. 

“And Dream?” 

He blinked and watched as George plucked one of the lilacs from the vase. He fiddled with its stem. 

“Thanks for the flowers.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: NO WAIT IT'S NOT OVER I JUST REALIZED I WORDED THIS WRONG IT'S STILL CONTINUING I'M NOT EVEN HALFWAY THROUGH WITH WHAT I HAVE PLANNED.
> 
> okay so I'm putting this at the end but thanks for all the support! Still don't know which part to draw for the 100 kudos thing, so ig comment with the parts you want me to draw and maybe I'll pick one of them.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> something so gay i become homophobic writing it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't talk to me about this fic on my main art account. I've posted about it on there, and I've replied to a few comments asking for more art with the link, but please respect my privacy and go to the twitter account I've designated for this fic. It's @PerleDesOrient

_**Tu fous le feu à mes combats,** _

_**je ne sais pas qui gagnera :** _

_**ma peur, mes vertiges ou ma foi** _

* * *

The waves rolled on to shore and washed over his bare feet. The wind combed through his hair like gentle fingers and soft sighs. The sun was his lover, it kissed his skin where the light could see and marked him red for its taking. 

George was ahead of him now, feet bare and flipflops in hand. They’d finally reached the shore after spending a few minutes trying to get down from the rocky steps without slipping from the moisture. It was already stunning from the small cliff, but seeing it up close where you could feel everything envelope you… it was it’s own kind of heaven. 

Dream walked towards George and watched as his eyes closed. His left hand held a piece of lilacs in its grip. His right hand hung loosely at his side, waiting to be taken. 

Dream took the chance. 

He pressed the back of his hand against George's and waited. There was a moment of hesitation, like he was unsure whether or not they were going to do this. Whether or not he was going to go through this _again._

Dream waited, and finally George moved so that their palms touched. It felt like relief, like being burned and soothed by ice simultaneously without end. Dream intertwined their fingers and raised their fists to press a kiss atop his knuckles. George didn’t flinch. 

“Did you find anything cool?” 

George turned to him. “No.” he shrugged. “I was waiting for you to come over.” 

Dream smiled and made a face. “Awwwwwwww.” 

George rolled his eyes. “It’s basic human decency, Dream. You’re not special.” 

“Don’t lie.” 

“Anyway— “ it was Dream’s turn to roll his eyes this time. “the sea is beautiful.” 

Dream continued to look at him and the way his gaze seemed so far away. He took the lilac in George’s hand and tucked it in his hair. It felt soft to the touch. He wanted to card his fingers through it and make him say his name. He looked like he came straight out of a painting. “It is.” 

“I wish I could come here more often.” George flushed. 

“Get some sunscreen, you’re going red.” 

He rolled his eyes, but the red remained. “Okay, Florida man.” 

Dream didn’t reply. He bent down in the water and flicked water up at him. George hissed and kicked up sand. Dream dodged by closing his eyes and raising his hands to his face. 

“Dream, I said I don’t want to swim.” 

“And here you said you wish you could come more often.” 

“There’s a difference between appreciating and experiencing.” 

“Huh. So, were you or were you not _experiencing_ when you slept with your lips on my neck?” 

George punched him on the shoulder. He wheezed. 

“I always wanted to do that.” 

“What, kiss me?” 

“Punch you. I never got to do it considering you’re on the screen the entire time.” 

“You pain me.” 

“We’ve had this conversation before.” 

George walked off a few bits away to take a stick that washed up. There were a few items that ended up on shore from the storm, but most of them were just a bunch of junk that the two planned on cleaning up before the others arrived. 

George poked at something gray and rusted that glinted below them. Dream raised his brows and padded over, feet sinking into wet sand. He picked it up and dusted it off. It was a compass. 

George peered over. “Does it still work?” 

Dream lifted it up to the light and shook it a bit. The red tick pointed north. Towards George. There was a pickup line to be made here. 

“Yeah, it works. Look at that, Gogy. The compass says your arms are where I need to be” 

“This isn’t the fucking SMP, Dream. Don’t pull that shit on me.” 

“You’re my direction in life.” Dream grinned. “All signs lead to you.” 

“I’m going to throttle you into the dirt.” 

“Not if you can’t catch me.” He ran. 

George watched in complete and utter disbelief as Dream sprinted towards the woods. This fucking idiot was a complete mess. He seemed to be really into it too. “Dream!” He shouted. “I am _not_ going to do goddamn Minecraft Manhunt.” 

Dream turned around and raised his arm. The compass glinted under the sun. His voice boomed. “What!? Too much of a pussy to do it!?” 

George cursed. He ran and felt the sand give way under him. It was so much harder to fucking run here, and with Dream’s long strides it was going to be hell before he could catch up with him. 

“Oh Geooooorge.” Dream sang. He was near the edge of the woods now, hands on his knees and shaking his ass like a bastard. 

“Dream!” George hissed, trying his best to catch up. Dream grinned. “Yes?” 

“Isle of you!” 

Dream blinked, a blush rising to his cheeks. “...What?” 

George throttled him into the grass. 

* * *

Dream laid back against the ground, breathing heavy from all the running. George was beside him now, laughing his guts out despite how hard it was for him to breathe. The little bitch has used a dono reference against him. A _dono_ _reference_ , and he _lost._ Dream was a mess. 

They stayed like that for a few minutes, trying to calm down their racing hearts and dying lungs. Dream’s eyes were closed, his expression serene. The sunlight drifted down from the treetops in lazy bouts. The grass rustled beside him, and warmth left his side. The was a knee between his legs now, an arm above his head. There was no hesitation in George’s actions when he pressed a hand against Dream’s chest, trailed the tips of his fingers up the base of his neck, cupped his cheek. 

It was only a stroke, a light touch to his bottom lip. A match strike that set his skin aflame. 

Dream opened his eyes. 

George was a god in mortal skin, the sun a halo atop his head. His divinity was enough to melt him, to have Dream on his knees crawling in worship. Begging for even the slightest bit of attention, of affection in all its forms. 

There was no need for words, no need for thoughts in the way their eyes met. It was an endless pit that he’d dig for all eternity, doomed to never find the end. 

George leaned down, eyes lidded. Dream didn’t break his gaze. If he stared long enough, he could burn the image into his mind. 

He pressed a kiss to his cheek, mouth grazing the tips of Dream’s lips 

The sun was his lover. It kissed his skin where the light could see and marked him red for its taking. 

“George.” He whispered, voice both coarse and soft. His head spun in a never-ending haze. His name felt like a prayer on his lips. Like murmurs said at church, like soft promises whispered in bed. 

George boosted himself back up, expression coy and all too knowing. It was going to drive Dream crazy. 

“Wow you’re really red. Are you sure you didn’t get sunburned out there? Maybe we should get _you_ some sunscreen next time. ” He joked , smile wide. Dream needed to get back at him _somehow_. 

“George.” 

“Hm?” 

“Don’t tell me you’re too much of a coward to kiss me.” 

“If I do, you’re never going to have enough.” 

Dream raised his hand. George’s eyes tracked its movement. His gaze shifted back to Dream the moment it touched his cheek. 

“You’re right.” he sighed, eyelashes casting shadows on his cheeks. “I’m never going to get enough of you.” 

George licked his lips and shifted his attention to the grass beside Dream’s head. He was avoiding him again—but this time, he didn’t leave. 

“Go on.” he muttered. 

Dream closed his eyes. Strawberries and sea salt. He opened them and let everything rush into him. 

“You’re all I need, George. You’re the air I breathe, the water I drink. I could drown in every bit of you and I’d still die of thirst.” 

“Then drown.” George murmured. “There’s nothing stopping you.” 

“There is, George.” 

“...what?” 

“You.” 

George’s phone buzzed. Lyrics filled the air between them. 

**_Sap-a-nap,_ ** **_sapinapi_ ** **_, sap-a-nap-a-_ ** **_napi_ ** **_-nap_ **

The two of them looked at each other. _Oh god._

Dream dropped his hand on his face, already wheezing. Fucking Sapnap, _oh my_ **_fucking_ ** _god_. 

George rolled over to the side. He was laughing too, head buried in grass and back bent as he clutched his stomach. 

They laughed for so long that the call tapered out before George could even think about picking up the call. 

“George-” Dream wheezed, tears in his eyes. His voice trembled. “You should--” he choked. 

“I should.” George replied, voice pitched high. He couldn’t stop the tremors in his body as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. There was a miscall from Sapnap and a singular '?’. 

George hit call. 

All it needed was two rings for him to pick up. 

“Hey George.” 

George tried to speak but all that came out was a wheeze. 

Dream laughed even harder. 

“Hey-“ George inhaled sharply, trying desperately to keep the laughter out of his voice. “-Sapinap. Sappynapi. Sapi-“ 

“I can’t _believe_ you.” 

“It’s a good song!” 

“First of all—no it isn’t. And second of all, why did you set that as my ringtone!?” 

Dream could hear the indignance practically ooze out of him. It set him spiraling into another fit of giggles. 

“Is that Dream beside you? Don’t tell me you two are making out just because we’re not there?” 

Dream wheezed and leaned in close. “We totally are. George just couldn’t _wait_ to get his hands on me.” 

George flushed and rolled over to his side, cradling his phone like it could protect him from this _slander._ “Dream! I fucking _swear_. I hate both of you!” 

“George???” Sapnap whined. _Little shit_ . “You’re already kissing him? Without _me???_ I thought we already talked about this!” 

Another voice suddenly came over from the other side. It was Bad. “Come on, stop bullying George.” 

Sapnap huffed. “Gogyyyy, give me a kiss too. A widdle kiss on the cheek! Come onnn. A widdle kiss for your little fwiend.” 

Dream wheezed. He leaned in and pressed his face up against George’s nape. His breathing hitched. 

“I would never kiss Dream and you know that.” There were a chorus of “Ooooohs” from the other side. 

“What do you have to say about that, Dream?” Bad goaded. 

He dipped his hand underneath his shirt and felt his muscles relax underneath his touch. Dream leaned in close to his ear. “I think George is a fucking liar.” 

“Damn right he is!” Sapnap whooped. George groaned. 

“I can’t stand any of you.” he grumbled. George dropped the call and relished in the silence that followed. 

Dream’s hands were still on his skin, leaving trails of heat everywhere they touched. 

“I hate you.” George muttered. He moved his hand down and placed it over Dream’s. He intertwined their fingers once more. 

Dream chuckled against his throat. “I know.” 

George’s phone rang. 

“Are you going to pick that up?” 

George rejected the call. “No.” 

Dream’s phone rang. 

“Are _you_ going to pick that up?” 

Dream didn’t reply. He moved his hands away and gently nudged George back down so that his back laid against the grass. His ringtone rung in his ears, and the sound of waves crashing against the shore chorused back. 

He thumbed George’s cheek and watched with bathed breath as his eyes closed. The ringtone ended. 

Dream leaned in slowly and pressed his lips to his. George gave way, mouth as soft and pliant as he’d though it’d be. It felt like thunder in his lungs, like every touch made him grow younger. Purer. George’s hands tangled in his hair. Gentle fingers and soft sighs. 

“You’re right.” he repeated. 

“I know.” 

George’s lips were swollen, eyes lidded and cheeks red. His breath was hot against his skin. The lilacs were still in his hair. 

“I’m never going to have enough of you.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was embarrassing to both write AND draw


End file.
